


when do i not love you

by blackbluewoo



Category: A.C.E (Beat Interactive Band)
Genre: Cuddling, Fluff, M/M, soft, this is a mess but i was feeling nice so no angst heh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-07-01 06:43:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15768705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackbluewoo/pseuds/blackbluewoo
Summary: donghun loves junhee in the mornings.





	when do i not love you

**Author's Note:**

> felt mean for putting angst in everything i wrote so i wrote something fluffy uwu this is really short and i don't like my writing in this either surprise surprise but !! here u go

donghun loves junhee in the mornings, before the world can get their hands on him, before the weight of his responsibilities takes the light away from eyes as he smiles. he loves him when the sun shines just perfectly through the window, coming through their too-thin curtains and highlighting the bronze in the other man’s skin. here, in these few misty moments as donghun wakes, the older man thinks jun is the most beautiful he’s ever been.

 

he thinks, maybe, its because jun looks a lot softer when he just wakes, a question on his tongue and half a smile on his lips. his hair is mussed against the pillow, eyes barely open, fluttering closed every few seconds. his eyelashes fan out against the tips of his cheekbones, stark against his skin. he looks ethereal, too good to be true, almost glowing in the faint sunlight rising and filling up their room, staining their white walls and white bed sheets golden.

 

it’s this early in the morning when jun is a lot softer around the edges, warm and gentle, his face bloated a little from sleep, and expression relaxed without the burden of everything that comes with being a leader. donghun feels the warmth pool in his stomach, feather lightly over his skin as the rising sun makes its home in their room. it lights up, a little, just enough so jun cracks his eyes open and whines, pulling the older man closer to him to bury his face in his shirt. he’s sensitive, in the mornings especially, and donghun can’t bear to wake him.

 

the worst part of the morning is when he hears the familiar tinkle of his alarm, jun groaning into his chest and the thud of people moving through the walls of their dorm. no time. just moving, moving, moving.

 

but the younger man follows donghun to his feet, arms stretched out and face screwed shut, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a disgruntled kitten. donghun lets himself pull jun closer for just a second, bodies pressed together with only the fabric of their pyjamas between them. jun hooks his arms around the older man’s shoulders, hums thoughtfully for a couple of seconds until donghun squeezes him tight enough to let go. even then, jun is soft. so soft, so pretty, details hazy against their brightening room.

 

—

 

donghun loves junhee on the stage, when their entire career sits before them, compressed into thousands of seats slowly filling up as the lights begin to shine. junhee’s focused, more controlling and demanding than ever. the softness has faded, dim against jun’s determination to succeed. everything’s harsher in the bright lights of the stage, a kaleidoscope of colours flashing across the younger man’s face not even in a matter of seconds. heartbeat in their ears, headsets arranged, microphones on and bass pumping through the floor beneath their feet.

 

jun isn’t soft here. he’s harsh, the stage makeup bringing out his features- his eyes sharp and curved, eyebrows carved at a perfect angle. he almost looks like a statue under the bright lights, and donghun begins to understand a little why people draw art of the things they love.

 

jun’s smile is a lot more calculated, more provocative, when he performs. he knows he’s good looking, he knows he could devour the stage and spit it up into little pieces at the audience’s feet. he keeps them hooked, dangling on a string, does almost the exact same to donghun when he does his solo- eyes piercing in the dark, back arched as he moves his body, swinging his hips almost sinfully. donghun hears the audience scream and gasp, captivated by the younger man’s every movement. he doesn’t blame them. jun knows the world is watching, and gives them a show.

 

even backstage, in the midst of changing costumes and fixing makeup and spritzes of hairspray, jun looks deadly. his eyes have unbridled resolve in them, something that almost intimidates donghun when he looks at the younger man. his golden skin is jarring against the intense makeup and the white silk he wears. he doesn’t look ethereal, now, he looks a different kind of other-wordly, like his face was sculpted, the contours of his face chiseled by hand. his mouth hangs open, almost gasping for breath, but then they’re back on stage in a matter of seconds, no words exchanged.

 

it’s not until after their performance that the fierceness fades a little, makeup smudged beneath jun’s eyes, making him look more tired and worn out than before. jun looks at him, forces a breathless smile before pulling his shirt over his head. all donghun wants to do is hold him, but jun isn’t his now. jun isn’t his in front of the staff, in front of their friends. jun isn’t his in front of the audience, in front of their fans, in front of the thousands of eager eyes that trail their every move. it hurts, almost, but donghun grabs jun’s arm and squeezes it, holds on a little too long to be entirely friendly, and jun just shoots him a smirk back.

 

—

 

arguably, donghun loves jun the most at night. when the eyes watching them are metaphorically asleep, when they’re both behind closed curtains and locked doors and under sheets. jun’s camera-ready smile has been tucked away, his hair disheveled, bags under his eyes illuminated with the faint moonlight coming through the window.

 

donghun sounds selfish when he says he likes jun more when the younger man belongs only to him, but it’s true. when there are no cameras, no lights, no makeup on his face, no product in his hair. no eyes watching, no flash photography. when he’s laying against the pillow, his eyes half-open as donghun runs a hand fondly through his hair. when it’s late and the only sound is the ticking of the clock and their breathing together.

 

jun looks like home, now. delicate, bathed in blue with the moonlight coming through their too-thin curtains. silver light crowns him, making him look princely even this time at night. donghun keeps his hand on the younger man’s face, lightly, fingers slipping under his jaw to pull him forward into a lazy kiss. jun chuckles, his voice deep and sleepy, and something aches inside donghun. all he wants to do is to stay like this forever. jun says something again, low and raspy, and donghun just smiles in reply. he’s too beautiful like this to disrupt, to reply, to break the silence that engulfs them like a slow, constant washing of waves.

 

it’s fragile, like if donghun moves too suddenly or too sharply jun will roll away, taking his crown of moonlight and faint breathing with him. so, gently, donghun lets his hand fall, lets his fingers trace over the curve of the younger man’s lips, of his cheekbone and jawline, rubs his temples with his thumb. jun whispers something again, something so quiet donghun can’t hear, so he carries on. he likes touching jun when he’s not awake enough to pull away or cringe, when he just basks in it and even leans into the older man’s hand. everything is slower and gentler at night, and even when jun opens his eyes fully to look at donghun, the other man carries on running soft fingers over his face, rubbing at his cheek affectionately, jun melting into his touch.

 

donghun holds his breath when jun moves, but he just scoots closer, the bed sheets bunching up where his legs pulled them along. he looks at him, and jun looks back, soft, smile written weakly across his features from where his eyes crinkle and his features ease slightly. donghun kisses him again.

 

when they part, jun comes even closer, their breaths mingling. he nestles his head into the donghun's pillow. donghun leans their foreheads together, reaches for jun’s hand under the sheets and finds it almost immediately. he brings their linked hands in between them, resting ever so slightly against jun’s chest so he can feel the thrum of the younger man’s heart, his presence donghun’s sole comfort. if jun knows what he's doing, he doesn’t mention it, smile drifting off his face as his breaths even out slightly and eyes slowly shut. he looks beautiful, always. 

 

donghun loves him, in the morning, in the night, and everything in between.


End file.
